


Day One - Holding Hands

by quartermasterandhisagent



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, 30 Day OTP Challenge, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartermasterandhisagent/pseuds/quartermasterandhisagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Day OTP challenge.</p>
<p>The barrage of gunfire rings in Q's ears, long after Bond comes for him.</p>
<p>Updated: 5/9/14</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day One - Holding Hands

The barrage of gunfire rings in Q's ears, long after Bond comes for him. He had been so  _foolish_ to think that one night out wouldn't kill him. He'd agreed to a few drinks with a couple of uni friends who were in town for the weekend, and Q had thought it would be good for his cover, keeping up appearances and all. He hadn't even  _considered_  the possibility of being too pissed to follow through with his usual roundabout route home, or what would happen if he didn't just once. 

He is only a few blocks away from where he's left his old school pals when the first man bumps into him. He doesn't think anything of it, until a few minutes later when he bumps into a different man dressed very much like the first. By that point, it is far too late to do anything--the sharp taste of chloroform reaches the back of his throat before he has chance to fumble for his phone.  _Stupid_  is the last thing he thinks before tipping into unconsciousness.

He wakes several hours later, head throbbing as he comes to. The hotel room they are keeping him in is fairly nice, the sort he'd send a double-oh to on a particularly high-end mission, or if he was feeling particularly generous that week. Q has no idea of anything, other than whoever 'they' are, they're probably former military given the way his hands are bound to the headboard. That, and the fact that he needs to get out of here, and make contact with MI-6 as soon as possible. Luckily for him, no one appears to be in the suite with him. Unluckily for him, he can hear gunfire nearby.  

He hopes M has enough good sense about him to send Moneypenny for him. She may be a terrible shot, but Bond would have a  _field day_  if he happened upon him in this state. Moneypenny would give him an earful for not being careful, but Bond would never let it go -- tied to a bed, after being taken off the street as if he were a  _civilian_ , a victim of some common crime! His head aches even more at the thought of it, so he puts it out of his mind as he tries focusing on freeing himself instead.  

He's almost free when he hears the gunfire halt suddenly. He looks up, panicked, as he hears the suite door click. There would be no way of hiding the fact he is attempting to escape if it is one of his kidnappers, and Q knows his best chance of survival is to cooperate without compromising intel. He is almost stupidly relieved then, when 007 comes waltzing in, casual as you please, with only a trace of a smirk on his lips. 

"When I said you needed to get out more, this isn't what I meant, Q," he drawls, eyeing Q's position. Q lets his head thump back against the massive headboard. 

 "Funny. Just undo these will you, the bloody ties are digging into my wrists," Q replies, refusing to rise to Bond's jab. 

Bond is about to return with another comment, perhaps one Q was expecting of him, one that will no doubt be repeated later at the office to the other double-ohs who unquestionably will find this  _hilarious._ The sudden return of gunfire cuts off whatever smart-arse comment Bond has lined up, and Bond is at his side, making quick work of the black plastic zip-ties at his wrists.

He taps the earwig twice with quick succession, before speaking smoothly, calmly. "Quartermaster secure, M." He can't hear M's reply, just barely hearing Bond's response who is only an arm's length away, having already drawn his weapon to load a fresh clip. "Unharmed, yes. We're going to need another way out of here. Make it quick."  

The gun fire draws nearer as they make their exit of the suite. He recognizes backs from the heads of 006 and 004 as they round another corner, but the order from M must have been strictly retrieval and not a kill order because they're still shooting. Bond himself is running out of bullets as they make their way down flights of stairs. Q will scold him later on his accuracy, but right now he'd just like it very much if no one from MI-6 got shot and they all made it  _home_ . 

They clear the last stairwell, with the other double-ohs flanking them several feet behind, when Bond looks at him and says "We've got a vehicle waiting round back, we have to clear the lobby _without_  firing, so you're going to have to trust me on this." 

Q looks at him as if he's been replaced with a stand-in. James Bond is concerned about  _discretion_ _?_   _I must have hit my head at some point, that would explain both the_ massive  _headache and Bond following orders for once, he thinks_  

 "Q, look at me." Bond waves his hand in front of his face, and Q snaps back to the present. "Let's  _go. Take my hand."_


End file.
